


Young, Dumb, and Broke(n)

by htonl



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Gen, au where hagrid gives harry to sirius
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-09
Updated: 2018-09-09
Packaged: 2019-07-08 20:58:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,646
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15938156
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/htonl/pseuds/htonl
Summary: "I met him!" growled Hagrid. "I musta bin the last ter see him before he killed all them people! It was me what rescued Harry from Lily an' James's house after they was killed! Jus' got him outta the ruins, poor little thing, with a great slash across his forehead, an' his parents dead... an' Sirius Black turns up, on that flyin' motorbike he used ter ride. Never occurred ter me what he was doin' there. I didn' know he'd bin Lily an' James's Secret-Keeper. Thought he'd jus' heard the news o' You-Know-Who's attack an' come ter see what he could do. White an' shakin', he was. An' yeh know what I did? I COMFORTED THE MURDERIN' TRAITOR! ...  An' then he says, 'Give Harry ter me, Hagrid, I'm his godfather, I'll look after him -' Ha! But I'd had me orders from Dumbledore, an' I told Black no, Dumbledore said Harry was ter go ter his aunt an' uncle's. Black argued, but in the end he gave in. ... But what if I'd given Harry to him, eh?"- J.K. Rowling, The Prisoner of Azkaban





	Young, Dumb, and Broke(n)

**Author's Note:**

> I reread Harry Potter (but only the third one) for the first time in _years_ recently and did a double take when I read this line. I'm missing a lot of details because it's been so long, but this was crying out for _some_ kind of fic, so... I wrote one.

The silence was the kind that comes just after a very loud sound – deafening, in its own way. Lit by dim street lamp light filtered through a row of trees, a last few boards toppled as the freshly destroyed house settled. No insects sang or cars passed by. The world seemed to hold its breath in the aftermath of the tragedy. The last one of its kind for over a decade, if the world but knew it.

An infant’s wail rose, shattering the scarcely regained still of the night. For what seemed a very long time, that was all there was – the ruins of a home, the encroaching darkness, and the child’s cry. Then, with a loud _crack,_ there was more. A man had appeared, just outside the front gate. He was a very large man, easily eight feet tall and half as wide, with a wild mane and a tangled beard. He was blinking away tears as he hurried through the gate and started pushing his way through the wreckage.

Now the air was filled with the sounds of shifting rubble, wood and stone crashing together as the man dug frantically about. Then, abruptly, the clamor ceased, making room for a new noise – a distant rumble. The man stood up, cradling a baby who looked ridiculously tiny in his giant arms. He sniffed hard, brushed a last few tears away, and bounced the baby gently. “There y’are, Harry,” he said. He had to clear his throat before he could continue. “It’s all righ’ now, I’ve got yeh.”

The distant rumble grew to a roar. Impossibly, a motorcycle swooped down from the sky and parked in what had been the back garden of the now-destroyed home. A young man with shaggy black hair jumped off and looked frantically around.

“James!” he shouted. “Lily! Are you – Hagrid? Hagrid!” The new man – he couldn’t possibly be much older than twenty – hurried to meet Hagrid as he bore baby Harry from the wreckage. He looked at the boy in awe and grief. “How is he -? Hagrid, did anyone else survive? What happened to Voldemort?”

Hagrid peered suspiciously at the new arrival, then relaxed. “Sirius Black,” he said in apparent relief. He looked back down at his burden, who had not stopped wailing. “No,” he said gruffly. “Harry’s the only one. I don’ - I don’ rightly know what’s happened to… to You-Know-Who. Dumbledore sent me to see if – he’ll want to know what’s happened… He’ll know.” Hagrid gave Harry a few inexpert bounces. It did not seem to help.

Sirius stared blankly at Hagrid, grief sharp on his young face. He didn’t appear to notice when tears began to leak from his eyes. He blinked once, hard, and looked at Harry. The baby had blood on his face – a cut on his forehead. Sirius took a deep breath.

“Hagrid – give me Harry. Please, I’m… I’m his godfather, Lily and James...” Sirius had to pause for another breath. He ran his hands over his face and stared at them when they came away wet. He wrenched his gaze back up. His voice was steadier when he said, “They would have wanted me to take care of him.”

Hagrid looked torn. “I dunno – Dumbledore wanted...”

“Dumbledore can shove it,” Sirius interrupted. He paused, and took another breath.

“I… I’m sorry, Hagrid. But Dumbledore isn’t Harry’s godfather, and he didn’t talk to James and Lily about what they wanted for Harry if they died. I am, and I did. Please… please let me take him. I’ll go to Remus and – we can figure this out.”

The mention of Remus seemed to sway Hagrid. “All righ’ then,” he said gruffly. “You can have him. But you can be sure I’ll be telling Dumbledore about this, and he won’ be happy.” He held Harry out, and Sirius took him with trembling hands.

“That’s – I understand, Hagrid, thank you. Thank you,” Sirius repeated. He didn’t seem to be able to tear his gaze away from his godson. Should he be losing that much blood? Head wounds always bled a lot, he knew, but how much blood did a baby have? He looked up only when another sharp _crack_ sounded. Hagrid was gone.

Sirius took a third breath, his deepest yet. His trembling stilled. Movements filled with purpose, he wheeled about and hopped astride the motorcycle still idling atop the petunias. He made sure Harry was securely tucked into his arm, kicked up the stand, and flew the motorcycle off with a parting roar into the night.

\---

It was not too much later when insistent knocking on an apartment door caused another young man to awaken. He looked at the clock on his bedside table, groaned, and swung himself upright. “Yes, fine, I’m coming!” he shouted. “D’you know what time it is? Bloody aurors, as if I’m in league with Voldemort just because...” He trailed off into muttering as he pulled a dressing gown around his shoulders and stumbled to the door. “Yes, yes, what is – Sirius?”

In the streetlight shining through the open door, this young man was revealed to be about the same age as Sirius, with short brown hair and thick scars running diagonally across his nose and mouth. He gaped at Sirius, then at the infant in his arms. Dread began to pour over his face like treacle across a floor. “Oh no,” he whispered.

Sirius stumbled through the door and kicked it shut behind him. “Remus,” he said. But he got no further, for Remus pulled a length of thin wood from the pocket of his gown and pointed it at Sirius.

“Give me Harry,” Remus said.

“Remus --”

“No, Sirius! Give me Harry! Something’s happened and _you were their Secret-Keeper!”_

Sirius seemed stunned for a moment. Fresh tears welled in his gaze. “I wasn’t,” he said.

Uncertainty showed in the sudden shifting of Remus’s eyes and weight. “You were,” he said. “I was there when you cast the Fidelius.”

“Yes, but – I thought, everyone knows I’m… I _was_ … James’s best friend, I was an obvious target, so I – I convinced them to switch.” Sirius gazed at Remus, sincerity shining from every pore. Harry, who must have fallen asleep at some point, made a gurgling noise and waved one arm slightly. The blood on his face shone gently in the dim light that made it through the curtains.

Remus lowered his threatening arm slightly. “You switched? With who? No, wait – here, put Harry down a moment, I’ve got some Veritaserum around somewhere and I need to be sure --”

Remus turned away and rummaged briefly in some cabinets. Sirius breathed a slight sigh of relief and set Harry down gently on a couch. He pulled out a thin stick of his own and set it on the coffee table.

“I’ve put my wand down, look,” he told Remus, taking the small vial Remus had found and was holding out. He downed the contents and dropped his arm, looking intently at Remus once more. Remus seemed reassured by these gestures, but nevertheless grabbed Sirius’s wand and stepped between him and Harry, his own wand pointing steadily at Sirius’s face.

“Remus, I swear, I wasn’t their Secret-Keeper. I convinced them to switch tonight, because I thought I could make a decent decoy. I never guessed – Remus, I had them switch to Peter.”

Remus’s wand arm dropped. His other hand clamped over his mouth. He stared at Sirius, eyes wide and unbelieving. Sirius continued, voice bitter and unhappy. “I knew something was wrong by the time I got back home – I turned around and went straight back, but I was too late – I should have Apparated, the bike is so _slow,_ I could have been there in time --” Sirius’s hand clenched around the empty vial. His voice dropped to a whisper. “By the time I arrived, Voldemort had been and gone. The house was destroyed, and James and Lily… James and Lily were dead. Hagrid was there, he had already found Harry – he said Dumbledore wanted him, but I convinced him to give him to me.

“Peter is a Death Eater.” Sirius’s voice, though still low, was now suffused with anger. “He _must_ be, he must be the one who told Voldemort about the prophecy, he must have been _so delighted_ when I suggested we make him their Secret-Keeper, I bet he was just _bursting_ with pride when he went to Voldemort – I’m going after him. I just came by to drop Harry off, I needed to know he was safe --”

“No,” Remus interrupted. His eyes, too, shone with tears, but his wand was back in his robe and he stepped forward to grasp Sirius by the shoulders. “No, Sirius, stop and _think_ for a moment, will you? Everyone thinks you’re their Secret-Keeper, when word gets out everyone will think that you betrayed them, what’s it going to look like that you took Harry and then went off and killed Peter?” He gave Sirius a little shake, then pulled him into a crushing embrace. “Stay here,” he said into Sirius’s neck. “Stay here and take care of Harry. _I’ll_ go after Peter. The little traitor – I’ll have him before the day's out.”

Sirius remained stiff for a moment, then relaxed. The empty Veritaserum vial hit the floor and rolled away. Sirius returned Remus’s embrace every bit as fiercely as Remus gave it. He buried his head in Remus’s shoulder and his hand in Remus’s hair, and a few more tears leaked out into Remus’s robe. For a few timeless moments, sobs shook them both, and it wasn’t clear whose sobs they were. They broke apart only when Harry woke up and made it plain that he _hurt_ and he wanted his _mum._

Remus looked at the squalling infant on the couch, then turned helplessly to Sirius. Sirius quickly wiped his eyes and picked Harry up, bouncing him gently. “At least I’ll get to use all that practice they made me do,” he said, giving Remus a trembling smile. “Hey, you were always better at medical charms than me – can you do anything about this cut on his forehead?”

“He’s hurt? _Lumos,_ ” Remus said. A light blossomed at the end of his wand, and he leaned over and examined Harry carefully with it. “I mean, of course he’s hurt, he’s just escaped Voldemort with his life – we should be grateful he’s not more hurt than this. How is he not more hurt than this? Do you’ve any idea what happened?” Remus waved his wand carefully over the baby. The cut closed up, and Remus used the corner of his robe to wipe some of the blood off Harry’s face.

Sirius shook his head. “Dumbledore will know, though, no doubt. Hagrid will have told him what he saw by now.”

“Then we can ask Dumbledore later.” Remus continued to dab at Harry’s face, then gave a hastily cut off exclamation. “Sirius, look at the shape of it!”

Sirius looked closer and gave his own exclamation. “That’s magical, that must be,” he said. Harry was quieting down a little now that his forehead didn’t hurt quite so much. Clearly visible beneath the dried blood on his little face was the cut, now scabbed over, shaped like a branching lightning bolt.

Suddenly, there was a sharp chime. Sirius and Remus both looked up, then sprang into motion. No words were exchanged – none were needed. The motorcycle was too far, neither of them would risk Apparating with the baby, whoever was coming would have to be faced and these young men were willing to defend this baby with their lives. Sirius grabbed his wand back from Remus and tucked himself into the alcove of a kitchen, shooting thick wards and barriers over the opening to the main space. Harry remained fussily in Sirius’s arms. Remus added a few wards of his own, put out his light, and spun to face the door, wand at the ready.

The moment after Remus turned, the door exploded into sawdust. Remus dodged a sparkle of light that shot through the doorframe and shot his own hex into the cloud obscuring his view. But he was fighting a losing battle – the spells were flying thick and fast now, and Remus couldn’t dodge or deflect them all. One of them hit, and he stiffened and fell to the floor.

“Remus!” cried Sirius. At the sound, the spells coming from the door ceased. After a moment, a ball of light flew through and up to hover, painfully bright, near the ceiling light. A crowd of people followed. They were all young, about the same age as Remus and Sirius or a few years older, and they were all brandishing wands in ways that made it quite clear they had no qualms about using them. A couple of them shot exploratory spells at Sirius, but subsided when they saw the strength of the wards – and that he held Harry tightly to his chest.

Last through the door were a man, not young at all with long white hair and a similar beard, and a woman, in her late twenties or early thirties, who gave the impression that she had been born with wrinkles and a matronly air. They also gripped wands, but were not yet pointing them anywhere.

Sirius blinked. “Dumbledore?” he said. “McGonnagall?” He looked around again. There were not so many people as he had first thought – only four or five, not including the older man and woman. Now that he was looking, Sirius could see that he knew all these people – had gone to school with them, and fought by their sides ever since.

“Here now,” began Sirius indignantly, “where do you lot come off barging in here and hexing Remus and scaring Harry half to death? It’s been a long night, you know --”

“Mr Black,” interrupted the old man. He had half-moon spectacles perched on his exceptionally long nose, and carried a dignified air that had to be on purpose – nobody just _was_ that dignified. “Lower your wards and give us Harry, please. Voldemort has been defeated. There’s no point in fighting us any longer.”

“What?” Sirius gaped for a moment. “Voldemort – Voldemort’s dead?”

“Or as good as. And on the very night you revealed your true colors.”

Sirius shook his head violently and adjusted his sweaty grip on his wand. “I would never! I would never betray them, I would defend them to the death, you know I would!”

“You were their Secret-Keeper. Voldemort learned their location. There’s no other explanation,” the old man said gently. The woman walked over to Remus and looked him over sternly from behind her own spectacles.

“I wasn’t – look, I downed some Veritaserum not an hour ago, the vial’s on the floor somewhere – I wasn’t their Secret-Keeper! I thought I was too obvious a target, I had them switch – Peter’s the traitor!” Sirius said furiously. A low murmur swept around the room. Harry made an unhappy sound. Sirius looked down and gave a brief sob of fury and anguish, then lowered his wand just long enough to adjust his grip on the baby. He had been squeezing much too tight, as if he could protect Harry with his arm alone. He looked back up.

“Look, Dumbledore, I swear, I would never harm any of the Potters if my life depended on it, you _know_ that! Ask Remus, I told him!”

Dumbledore looked gravely over at Remus, lying on the floor. “Minerva?”

McGonnagall looked up at him. “Just Stunned, Albus,” she said. She stooped and picked up something small that glinted. “And here’s a vial. There’s a little potion left inside. It does seem to be Veritaserum.”

Dumbledore considered, head slightly tilted and hands clasped. “You say you convinced Lily and James to switch Secret-Keepers to Peter, and he’s the one who betrayed them? This would be Peter Pettigrew?”

Sirius nodded. His face was very white, although he had relaxed a fraction when McGonnagall had pronounced Remus merely Stunned. “They only switched tonight – I thought nobody would suspect Peter of being the Secret-Keeper, but everyone knows I’m James’s best friend. I thought I’d make a decent decoy.” His face twisted. “You can see how that turned out.”

Dumbledore pondered a moment longer, then nodded. “Very well,” he said. “You can lower your wands, everyone. Minerva, if you would-?”

McGonnagall nodded and, as everyone else relaxed – Sirius more slowly than the rest – she waved her wand at Remus and muttered something under her breath. Remus immediately jerked upright, groping for his wand and looking wildly around.

“You can relax, Mr Lupin,” said McGonnagall dryly. “We’ve heard Mr Black out, and we’re not going to kill him.”

Remus, who had found his wand, finally focused enough to see the lack of people dueling to the death. He blinked, sat a moment, and abruptly hauled himself to his feet. “Smashing,” he said. “Speaking of, could someone fix my door? I’m renting from a Muggle.”

One of the men in the room muttered something that might have been an apology and went over. He peered at the mess, muttered something else, and waved his wand. Pieces of shattered wood began to rebuild themselves in the doorframe under his close supervision.

“Professor,” said Sirius, considerably more polite now that he was in no danger. He adjusted his hold on his godson. “What happened to Voldemort? You said he’s dead – how?”

Dumbledore ignored Remus’s exclamation at this news and regarded Sirius gravely over his spectacles. “In a moment,” he said. He gestured to the young people who had so recently been threatening Sirius and Remus. “Would you go after Pettigrew? Someone needs to find him. We would all prefer him alive, I’m sure.”

There was some grumbling that indicated otherwise, but everyone filed out nevertheless. Dumbledore turned back to Sirius and Remus.

“It has been a long night, and I intend to sit down. Won’t you join me?”

Sirius and Remus exchanged looks. Dumbledore sat in an armchair; McGonnagall sat in the other. Remus lowered himself gingerly onto the couch. Sirius began deconstructing his wall of wards, very slowly. Dumbledore watched for a moment before continuing.

“I did not say that Voldemort was dead – merely defeated. I do not know all of the details, as of yet, but I believe it was Lily who did it.”

Remus and Sirius both froze. Their gazes met once more. After a moment, Remus said, “Lily’s alive?” His tone said that he did not dare to hope.

Dumbledore shook his head sadly. “I’m afraid not,” he said. Both young men drooped. “But she died protecting Harry. That kind of sacrifice, for pure love, cast a spell stronger than any Voldemort could hope to produce himself. When he attacked Harry, his curse rebounded. It destroyed the house, and likely Voldemort as well.”

Sirius looked down at Harry. At the wound on his forehead. He cupped the tiny head in one hand and stroked it gently with his thumb.

“So you see why I’ll be needing to take Harry,” Dumbledore finished. Sirius’s and Remus’s heads snapped around.

“You – you _what?_ ” Sirius sputtered, outraged. “You bloody well will _not!_ He’s my godson! James and Lily wanted _me_ to take care of him if anything happened to them, and I’m bloody well going to!” Sirius stopped deconstructing his wall of wards. He actually added a few back on, and backed up into the sink.

Remus was also furious. “Why on _earth_ would you want to take Harry away from the only family he’s got, now?”

McGonnagall appeared distressed, looking between Dumbledore and Remus and Sirius. She opened her mouth, then shut it again. Dumbledore continued to gaze calmly at Sirius.

“Because you’re not Harry’s family,” he said, and continued to talk over the increasing noises of outrage from the two young men. “Harry has an aunt, as you know – Lily’s sister. The spell that was cast with Lily’s death will protect Harry from the Death Eaters, and Voldemort too, if he survived, but – only so long as Harry lives with someone related to both him and Lily by blood.”

Remus shot to his feet. “That’s _ridiculous,_ ” he spat. “Petunia _despises_ Lily, hasn’t spoken a word to her in years, and is a bloody _Muggle,_ for Merlin’s sake! With or without Lily’s spell, we could protect Harry better than a pack of Muggles until the end of time, and we can _certainly_ love him better!”

Harry began to fuss again. Sirius had returned to clutching him tight, as though afraid he’d float away. Given that Dumbledore was a powerful wizard, and McGonnagall a powerful witch, that was definitely one of the things that Sirius was worried about.

Dumbledore looked first at Remus, then back to Sirius. He met McGonnagall’s unhappy gaze. He appeared to be debating something with himself.

“… Very well,” he said at length. “I can see that there will be no getting Harry away from you tonight.” He stood, and gestured McGonnagall up as well. “I will return to discuss this with you some other night.”

Remus accompanied them to the door, though it looked more like he was chasing them out. “No,” he said firmly. “You won’t.” With that, he nearly slammed the door, which looked like it might shatter again for a moment before settling back into being one whole piece of wood. Remus turned and joined Sirius in the shredding of the wall of wards.

“Fidelius,” said Remus firmly. “No arguments. I’ll be the Secret-Keeper, we can trust me. We’ll move, and Dumbledore won’t be able to come for Harry.”

“Trust me, I wasn’t thinking of arguing,” growled Sirius. He paused. “Before we do that, though...” He held up a struggling Harry, who was quite red in the face and yelling at the top of his young lungs. “Harry needs a new nappy. I don’t suppose you’ve any lying about?”


End file.
